


Five senses

by Meinhiding



Series: Karedevil fics [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, No Dialogue, Post-Season/Series 02, inner thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meinhiding/pseuds/Meinhiding
Summary: Matt Murdock uses all his senses to connect with the world around him, especially with  Karen Page.





	Five senses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleDidTheyKnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDidTheyKnow/gifts).



The accident turned his whole life upside down when he was only nine years old. The radioactive waste that got spilled onto his eyes changed everything. He was not himself anymore and he did not know how to be the new person that he had become. Nothing could be perceived as before, when he was able to see. His five senses had become something different and he had to learn to live a new life that was there to stay.

 

SIGHT

Blind. He was blind. A dark curtain covered everything. What kind of life was he supposed to live now? It was a life with no colours and no lights. He could “feel” outlines and shapes but that was it, nothing more. A world of fire… no more blue skies. 

But then, after years of blackness, she is there and she can lit his world. Her magic light is everywhere and, little by little, he feels that the darkness vanishes when she is around. She enlightens his world with a warming heat and if she is close enough, he can sense an explosion of sparkling flames. She changes his whole existence because maybe he can't see her but she sees him, she sees through him and he can’t pretend anymore. And then, when he is finally next to her, the world is not just invisible to him: it disappears. Because then, there is nothing else, nowhere else but her. 

 

TASTE

Her skin is the first thing he wants to taste every morning. When he is lucky enough to wake up next to her, his lips wander all over her body, making her shiver as she feels the touch of his lips and his tongue. He loves to linger on her neck. There is a faint track of his favorite perfume, lavender soap, body lotion, and a mixture of both their sweats. 

He enjoys it even more if they had sex the night before. Her taste is more intense and it takes him back to the moments when she had her legs on his shoulders and she was moaning and shuddering because of him. He feels life is worth living even if it is just for those moments when he can savor her. 

Her lips are his second favorite flavor. He loves kissing her and finding some curry hidden behind the mint of her toothpaste. It reminds him of those early kisses, when things were not clear yet but they were already dreaming about a possible future together. 

He also loves to taste her lipstick on the rare occasions they go out to dinner. That taste leads them to a few hours for each other. They try to forget about trials, fights and investigations and hold hands, drink cheap wine, chat about everything and nothing, laugh… pretend to be a normal couple living a normal life. The life they know they are both holding off for a greater good. 

 

SMELL

The rain. It is impossible for him to smell it without going back to their first kiss. He knew it was coming but still, he let her lead the way and take his hand to walk him home. And then he made his move, and he kissed her. The smells of the dinner and wine were washed away by the rain. Those drops, which were drawing lines on her, were also perfuming her with their scent. Now he can no longer smell the rain without a smile on his face.

The smell of coffee also makes him think of her. Back in the days when they worked together, her personal scent was always hidden behind the strong smell of the coffee she used to prepare for them. At present, that lingering smell is still there, but now it shows her lack of sleep and her tenacity. How she just can't stop when she is trying to find the answers she needs to seek the truth. He loves that quality in her, the fighter she has always been. 

But his shampoo on her may be his favourite smell. It is not the smell of an initial date before their gives and takes and their learning and accepting. And it is no symbol of her daring personality. That smell comes with the domesticity they love to share whenever they can. A night in at his apartment, cuddling in bed after sex, a shower together, a quiet breakfast full of touches. Just the two of them. No phone, no watch, just them. Sweet slow kisses and then snuggling in bed again, his nose on the nape of her neck to enjoy that smell on her hair. 

 

TOUCH

Since the moment he got blind, touch was the most logical sense to use to connect with the world. It was even socially acceptable for him to go around touching when other people could only look. A few personal items in a classmate’s room, the different spaces in a house where a party was being held, some beautiful girls’ faces, unknown people’s arms to cross the street...

This sense became a need when Karen appeared in his life. Any excuse was good for him if it meant he was allowed to touch her. To hold her arm to find his way in a room, to hug her to comfort each other, to be hugged after one of his accidents, to learn to play the pool…anything would do to feel her touch. 

At first it was something unconscious but then he realised both of them longed for it. He could feel their body temperatures rising and their pulses accelerating on their skins. The caring touches opened the door to something deeper: caressing her arm as an invitation for more intimacy, holding her hand on a walk home from which there was no return, brushing her shoulder to find the way towards her lips, cupping her face relieved that she was not dead…

And after all the secrets, the confessions and the acceptance, he no longer restrains himself from touching her. He can't and he won't waste a single moment ever again. If she is tired, he massages her feet or her scalp. If she is relaxed, he writes sweet loving messages on her back. Whatever pleases her works for him, all he wants to do is to touch her. He is always starving for her. 

And sex, well, sex has never been as natural and passionate for him as it is with her. His hands love to find their way under her blouse and her skirt. Nothing could ever be more appealing than her skin. He loves traveling all over her body. He draws lines on her as if she were a canvas and he was painting on her. He delicately caresses every inch of her as if she were an antique map and he had to follow the paths to find the treasure hidden between her legs. 

 

HEARING 

He has lived in the city his whole life. He knows all its sounds, especially the ones in Hell's Kitchen. They form a map in his head letting him see his neighbor even better than a sighted person can. He listens to it, he feels it and he loves it. Strange as it may seem, as Karen told him once, despite the crime and the darkness, the city makes him feel safe. It is even stranger as he has to fight every night, risking his life, to make sure it stays that way. 

But he is not the only one fighting for New York. Apart from the vigilantes, there are also ordinary people who do everything they can to make the city a better place. Like her. He can hear her fighting when she is working, moving her folders, reading her notes, seeking answers. She huffs because nothing is comprehensible and, if it is, it is unfair, unethical. He feels the air moving as he hears her hands in the air while her mind is trying to make some sense out of an endless pile of articles, pictures and records. She clicks her heels wandering around the room while she curses in frustration. And her hair moves as she walks, he loves the sound it makes when it brushes her shoulders or when she pulls a strand behind her ear. 

Then, she takes her pen and drags it on a piece of paper to write some ideas, some questions. That sound changes when she is eager because she thinks she is getting close to an answer: it is harsher and more violent. And he knows she is about to start typing if the sound the pen makes against the table is sharper and louder. He loves that moment, when her breathing changes, her heart beats faster and she takes her laptop and starts typing, solving the chaos, placing every piece of the puzzle where it belongs until it is all so obvious it just can’t be denied. No wonder they all go after her. She may not have his super senses, but she is more daring, righteous and tenacious than anyone he has ever met. 

But those are not the only sounds he loves in her. He adores the little, almost imperceptible sounds she makes when she smiles, that smile which increases the frequency of almost every heart that beats around her. Also her laugh, which he wishes he could hear more often and he fights as hard as he can to make that happen, everyday. 

And then, there is her voice. It is everything he needs to hear to feel he is in his safe place. When he hears her voice, even if it is on the phone, he gets all the comfort he needs after an exhausting day at work. And when she asks him about it, he is a bit quick in his answer because he does not want to be the one doing the talking, he needs to listen to her voice. No song could ever be more beautiful, no lullaby could ever be more reassuring than the sound of her voice.

Yes, he loves hearing her, listening to her, reading her, especially when they are having sex. If he had to choose one, only one sound, that might be the sound of his name, whispered in his ear when he is inside of her. Or it could be her moans as his tongue works on her. Or maybe her silenced cries, a few minutes later, as she comes against his mouth again and again. Nothing compares to those sounds. It is not just what he feels but what he makes her feel. No sound is better than the sounds of her extasis. And then, when he holds her tight, he smiles and tells her how much he loves her and adores her as she tries to get her breath back to get ready for a second round. 

 

So maybe his life is full of blackness and maybe he will never see the sky again and yes, he cannot see her the way other people do, but the way he feels her with every other sense and the way she makes him feel makes it worth every moment of darkness he goes through every single day.


End file.
